


Cold Hands

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: 12 Days of Tiencha [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: I wrote this on my phone in 10 minutes be kind, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: Yamcha has cold hands. Two can play at that game.





	Cold Hands

**Author's Note:**

> HGKFHFNG THIS IS SO STUPID
> 
> I wrote this in like 10 minutes on my phone and then edited and posted it on my phone too so be gentle please
> 
> I'm attempting to do some kind of 12 Days of Fic-mas thing with all Tiencha so here we go I guess

The snow fell in fat flakes from the sky, swirling before finally settling on the ground. Tien propped his chin in his hand and gazed out the farmhouse window. Now that he had a permanent indoor place to live—with heat and plumbing and everything—he could really appreciate snow. All those years of his supposed “eternal” training journey had made for a lot of long, hard winters, and he’d appreciated the challenge they’d given him then, but now he was content to just watch the snow from somewhere warm.

He sipped at his tea before turning back to his novel. Normally he’d feel bad about leaving Yamcha to do all the outdoor chores by himself, but Yamcha had insisted. “Seriously, you never take a break,” he’d said, shoving Tien towards the couch. “I can handle a little firewood.” He’d caught Tien’s chin and pecked him on the lips. “And maybe afterwards you can help warm me up,” he’d murmured.

Just the memory made Tien flush red and he buried himself further into his blanket. Sure, he and Yamcha had been married for a few months now, but that didn’t mean Tien was any less flustered by Yamcha’s more direct innuendos than he had been when they’d started dating. He swallowed, wishing Yamcha would hurry up and come inside already.

Shenron must’ve given him a freebie, because the door flew open and Yamcha rushed inside, bundled in more winter paraphernalia than Tien knew existed and cradling a stack of wood in his arms. “Holy shit it’s cold out there,” he declared, kicking the door shut behind him before too much snow could blow into the house.

Tien laughed and sat up. “You volunteered.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in why don’t you,” Yamcha grumbled. He dumped the firewood next to the wood stove. Thankfully, it seemed mostly dry, and Tien relaxed a little. There was nothing worse than wet firewood.

“Hey.” Tien jumped; when had Yamcha moved right behind him? His heart pounder and he clutched at his book with white-knuckled fingers. “Feel how cold my hands are,” Yamcha said, before immediately shoving his icicle fingers down the back of Tien’s shirt.

Tien _shrieked_ and threw himself forward off the couch. He glared up at Yamcha from the floor. Yamcha was doubled over laughing, still bundled up in everything except his mittens. “I hate you,” Tien informed him.

“That’s not what your vows said,” Yamcha chortled.

Tien pulled himself to his feet and cracked his neck before walking to the door. “Of course, you know,” he said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, “this means war.”

Before Yamcha could react, Tien had flung the door open, grown two extra arms, and plunged all four hands into the snow before charging across the living room towards him. Yamcha shouted and tried to get out of the way, but Tien had always been just that much faster, and soon Yamcha was pinned to the floor with Tien’s freezing hands grabbing whatever skin they could reach while Yamcha screamed for mercy.

It wasn’t quite what Tien had in mind for warming Yamcha up, but things never seemed to go the way the thought they would. And in this case, that suited Tien just fine.


End file.
